wolfish
by prettypinklips
Summary: She gasps, clapping her hands over her eyes. "You're naked! Oh my god, you're naked." she moves one hand, waving it at him, "Stop being naked!" / Or, Klaus ends up on Caroline's porch the morning after that first full moon, and really, when a hot naked guy knocks on your door and asks for a cup of tea, you can't say no. -— klaus/caroline. au.


**wolfish**

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—

It's eight o'clock in the morning on a Saturday when her doorbell rings, pulling her from the best sleep she's had in days. It really shouldn't be the best, considering the fact that Elijah and his crazy brother were still out there—you know, _alive._ But still. She'd just been kidnapped. _Again._ And Tyler was back, so she was trying to mope in peace, thank you very much.

Caroline grumbles, rolling out of bed. "I hate my life." she mutters, yawning. She opens the door, still grumbling, expecting the paper boy or the mailman—

Her jaw drops. The blonde hair, the blue-green eyes. Elena had told her what he looked like, but she hadn't counted on him being so...so—well, _hot._

And naked.

_Definitely_ naked.

Klaus dimples at her, "You wouldn't happen to have a spare pair of trousers lying around, would you, darling? And I could definitely go for a spot of tea. English, preferably, but whatever you have will do just fine." he speaks primly, a (hot) calloused hand rubbing a spot of dirt off of his face. His accent is light, but it still stirs something inside of her. _Oh, foreign boys,_ she thinks, _yummy._ And then she shakes her head, because mass murdering kidnapping evil (hunk-ish totally hot) mean Original Hyrbids are _not_ yummy.

Klaus smiles wider, like he knows what she's thinking. Probably does. _Is mind-reading an Original thing and oh my god, stop smiling at me like that._

She's pretty sure she passes out for a few seconds. "Uh, what?" she finally says, dumbly, blinking rapidly. Because, _what._

His grin widens, and he motions to his nakedness, and she gasps, clapping her hands over her eyes. "You're naked! Oh my god, _you're naked._" she moves one hand, waving it at him, "Stop being naked!"

He chuckles, and she peaks through her fingers, "May I please come in, or are you going to let your nosy neighbors tell your mother a naked man was on your porch?" he questions, voice thick with amusement. And that accent. Christ.

"You can come in." Caroline hedges, and what the hell is she doing? "But I swear to god if your nakedness gets anywhere near me I'm going to—"

"Oh, please." he waves a hand at her, dismissive, "Don't flatter yourself."

—

"Lovely home," he comments, adjusting the strings of the grey sweats she'd stolen from Tyler when they were friends—best friends—supernatural beings in a comradeship—whatever they were. Ugh.

"Uh, thanks." she says.

"You're not very articulate, are you?" he questions, turning those eyes and those dimples on her.

Caroline's glare sharpens, "Well, _excuse me_ for not knowing what to say when a crazy—"

"_You_ invited me in."

"I'm going to shove my foot _so_ far up your—"

He interrupts her again, grinning cheekily, "And _there_ she is." he says, eyes laughing at her, "Why did I almost use you in the sacrifice? You're too much fun." he rubs his hands together, casting his eyes around her kitchen. He spies a lone coffee cup seated by her mom's brewer, and he makes his way towards it, his lope long and graceful. She tears her eyes away from his naked torso long enough to lightly slap herself on the cheek twice _because she is going crazy_ before he turns around, "Tea, love?"

She points, and he pulls the tea bags from the cupboard beside him. The next five minutes are filled with relative silence, and she swears he might be humming when she says, "Okay, like, are you going to kill me, or—"

"Heavens, no." he says, chuckling a little. "I quite enjoy you."

"Oh, _greeaaat._" she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest, leaning against the counter behind her. "You've got your tea, and some pants, can you leave now?" she spits, attempting to glare at him.

He grins before he's in front of her, pushing her back against the counter. He presses his nose to her neck, inhaling, and his knee wedges itself between her thighs, and _oh god,_ "I don't really think you want me to."

"Y—yes, I do. I want you faaaar away from here—" and when he pulls away, the whimper she lets out gives her away. His eyes darken, and his lips are at her throat.

She doesn't know what to do, only that a totally hot guy has her pressed up against the counter and she's pretty sure a lot of x-rated movies start like this and—

She thinks she might have a dog fetish or something because this is getting seriously ridiculous. First Tyler, and now—

"Didn't you say something about my nakedness not getting near you?" Klaus murmurs against her throat, amused, and she nods, air gushing from her mouth with a squeak. She pushes against his naked chest: _Oh, god, get away from me. I mean, wait, no, come back. Bring your accent and dimples with you. No, wait. Stay away._

She's definitely bat-shit insane, she decides.

Klaus leaves her pressed against the counter, and he drains the tea from his cup before setting it down. He wipes a hand over his mouth, and flashes in front of her again. He pulls her limp hand from her side, kisses the back of it, eyes on hers all the while. "I'll be seeing you again, lovely." he whispers against her skin before he's gone, and the only promise that he'd been there at all is her erratic breathing and the scent of earth and man in the air.

Caroline smacks a hand to her forehead, muttering to herself. Oh, god, she'd enjoyed the feel of his knee between her thighs and his lips on her neck.

She texts Damon: KILL ME. THIS IS NOT A JOKE. KILL ME.

Quit being dramatic, he responds not a moment later.

Caroline throws her phone across the room, and slams her forehead down onto the counter.

_Royally screwed, thy name is Caroline._

—

_fin._


End file.
